


Miracle Shop

by BadRomantic



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Multi, Other, Story with OCs | Original Work, no canon characters are going to be in this fic besides possible mention, would still appreciate if you guys gave the fic a shot and read it !!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-14 11:18:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13588935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadRomantic/pseuds/BadRomantic
Summary: Credulous McGinn, a student of Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is a 17 year old boy who is kept at Ilvermorny another year to avoid sending him off into the wizarding world underaged. Because of this, he is to help teachers and occasionally assist students. And despite his busy day schedule, Credulous finds time to test his true passions: exceeding the physics of magic.Although, there is someone just as equally as passionate as him over the boundaries of magic, and their passions, while similar, are tested in drastically different ways. The outcomes of which cause a nervousness in the wizarding world over magical studies.





	1. Twisted Around [Pt. 1]

Shimmering dust flowed through the air, gold and red sand mixed with whatever shiny remnants Credulous McGinn could muster from the clutches of house elves. Flakes of shiny paint, clips from old spoons, and fractions of jewelry were weaving through the air alongside the dancing sand, bouncing in steady rhythm that Credulous fondly related to the tides of an ocean. He had been remarkably vigilant on keeping the flow of the sand from touching anything that could jostle or otherwise disrupt it, keeping a respectful distance from the roof and walls of his hut-next-to-the-forest. 

 _Any disruption would be catastrophic for the task at hand,_ He told himself long before he had come back from working alongside the Transfiguration teacher of Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As a student who took schooling early, he was forbidden from graduating until finishing the year at the age of 17.  _Such is law,_ he recollected almost bitterly. It had been up to the school as to what to do with him next, and they have decided he would best be kept in the school and housed on grounds, making up the hospitality by helping teachers with lessons and being responsible for most- if not all- detentions that were to take place. 

 _Punishment for the greater of mind,_ Credulous supposed. Such was not important now though, what was important was his testing. His _hypothesis_ , as he had learned from a muggleborn student. The sand and flakes inside it, were flowing to give him an understanding of how free magic moves. They were sitting on his carefully loosened magic. He practiced months on the technique of letting his magic roam without his restrains, alongside many practices for mending broken bones without detection and creating excuses for terribly tedious explosions. His experiment was to hold magic in air, to keep it still and pause the fluidity of it.

While magic could hold objects, hell, _people_ in air and give off the illusion of immobility, magic was of itself still moving. To Credulous, it was a tasteful idea to test magics limits and properties. Nobody else seemed to be interested in it, too certain in that magic is something intangible and therefor not worth the time to be studied. Although, most people take magic for granted, believing it will never die out- let alone could be immobilized. 

 _Surely, if I find a way to hold magic still, someone out there will finally share my interests._ Credulous thought to himself, allowing his eyes to drift with the sand as he pondered what emotions he would feel if such were to happen. After a few seconds, he turned back to his wicker-handled wand and plucked it up. He wondered what position would be best to disrupt the flow, though decided that because this had never been attempted, he would need to learn from trial and error. So, he positioned himself in front of the door of his hut and pointed the wand up at the flowing magic. As much as he knew this wouldn't be a successful first trial, he could only hope that it didn't leave him with noticeable bruisings. His professors and first year students would either worry or question it, and Credulous sincerely hated having to explain his studies to people who held no interest for them.

Credulous took a breath and gave a sharp flick of his wand, _"Petrificus Totalus."_

He waited for a moment, watching as the magic continued to move in undisturbed waves. Credulous gaged his chances with other spells, and decided that it would be no harm to him if he used a few darker spells for the greater good of testing. 

 _"Evuea."_ Credulous furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, trying to focus the usually potent spell on the magic in the air. Nothing.

_"Relactus Scuntruma."_

The sand was beginning to waver. That's a positive sign, especially since he was not inflicting his spell on the sand. This means the magic holding it was being affected. He focused his entire mind on the magic before him, however invisible it was, and gripped the wicker of his wand until his knuckles paled. _"Scolumdra Tutalem."_

The next thing Credulous was registering was that he was on his back, outside of his hut, with his front door under him. He rolled over, looking back at his hut and scampered to step in and look at the damage that had been done. His curtains were shredded in odd shapes, spirals that circled holes and snow-flake like designs that were still burning away at the fabric. The glass jars with wand cores were exploded, the caps of said jars littering the walls of his hut and seeming equally as inflicted as the curtains have been. As much as Credulous tried to find the remnants of the sand and flakes of spoons, jewelry, and paint, he couldn't. It would seem that they were completely obliterated, washed from existence. 

Credulous found it all so beautiful. But, he also knew that he should hurry with repairing his hut should he wish to continue these experiments. If the headmaster of Ilvermorny found out he was experimenting with something so dangerous, he would surely be expelled. 

And Credulous McGinn most certainly refused to be expelled for challenging magics nature.


	2. Twisted Around [Pt. 2]

Credulous, while enjoying the theory of it, did not respect the ideals of punctuality. His feet were not as quick as his mind and he did not partake in enough Quidditch exercise to come close to it. While missing breakfast was commonplace at Ilvermorny school, and he surely would not be receiving any unnecessary backlash to being missing or late, he did not want to spend the afternoon jogging around trying to figure out which class he was suppose to be assisting today. Because of this, Credulous was hurrying himself down the halls of Ilvermorny and swiveling around students who were anxious to get to their first class of the day. 

 _I recall how nervous I was my first few years,_ He thought with meager fondness, _the hours I spent studying just to make sure I wouldn't fall behind. Truly not worth it._

Especially since he was stuck another year, just to ensure he would finish the year and graduate at age 17. Credulous thought it was ridiculous, the stigma behind the act of an underaged wizard being graduated. It was almost the exact opposite of what no-majes believed-- the _polar_ opposite, he fixed with the tender memory of a first year witch correcting his lack-of-unique grammar.

First years were by far his favourite set of people-- specifically the muggleborn. They had never been exposed to the wizarding world, had not yet experienced the cruel reality of how wizards and witches dealt with past relations to no-maj kin or friends. He enjoyed their strong outbursts, their rebellious attitudes, and the way they held themselves. Credulous believed that to be born from a no-maj family was to be the greatest gift of the wizarding community, aside from the debacles of blood purity. It was to see a whole new world and take advantage of new experiences. Credulous himself wondered that, had he been born from a non-pureblood family, if his perspective on the wizarding world would change.

He decided the thought was worth pondering at a later time and not when he was walking through the dining hall to sit by the professors of Ilvermorny, catching the ending to what must have been a brief conversation about tests being held at the end of the month.

"The students suffer enough having you lot as teachers, give them a break." Credulous said, taking a seat besides the Potions teacher and noted with great satisfaction that Professor Filemonsen, the Transfiguration teacher, took great amusement in his comment. Her round face brightened up with a reserved smile, eyes glittering with hidden youth behind her old age. 

"I suppose you would know this best, yes, Louis?" Professor Filemonsen asked.

Credulous rolled his eyes in response, looking away and ignored the smug glances other professors shot at him. He's grown out of his embarrassment for the nickname, now all that resides is a small waver of frustration that he couldn't seem to grow out of the name.

"More than you believe." He said with sincerity, looking up in time to catch the Defense Against the Dark Art's Professor leaning in and locking his eyes on him.

"Louis-" Credulous did not miss the glint of malice in the professor's eyes, "-I need your assistance with the first years this morning. I'm fairly certain you have nothing planned, yes?"

"Well, yes," He pondered on making up an excuse, but decided against it when he noticed the Headmaster staring at him, "I'm free for this morning. I would be happy to help." He gritted out the last part, looking away before the professor's smug face could truly get under his skin. 

Professor Smith was insufferable. He clearly disliked Credulous, made a point to embarrass him when he had to take his classes, and now purposely sets him up for failure whenever he assists him.

"Don't let that young man get you down, Louis," Professor Filemonsen said quietly, reminding Credulous of how a grandmother would speak to her grandchildren, "that face is already too wrinkled from frown lines. I'd hate to see you looking like me by the age of thirty."

"I'd hate that too." Credulous bantered playfully, smiling to himself when Professor Filemonsen laughed in the usual quiet way she did, raising her hand to press against her chest as if that would stop the playful bubbles of laughter. Credulous always enjoyed her presence, especially her wisdom in magic. She, along side other professors of Ilvermorny, had spent time on the field as aurors before coming to teach. Although he knew this fact to be nothing but the truth, he still found it hard to see this hearty woman out in the world, taking dangerous wizards into custody.

"Receive any letters from Greenland?" 

"If I have, I have not opened them." Professor Filemonsen said simply, "Greenland sends nothing but reminders of my home's bills and my dastardly ex-husband!"

"Exhausting," Credulous said sympathetically.

"And that is why, dear boy, I hope you do not marry too young." Despite the sincerity in her voice, she smiled just as brightly as she would have as if they were joking. Credulous wondered just how soon Filemonsen truly got married, but did not pry.

"I wonder if I will ever be able to process time well enough to make room for a spouse." He said absently, "It all seems like a waste."

"Perhaps!" Professor Sewall barked, sounding outraged at Credulous's statement, "I assure you young man, you'll find time with the right person."

"Perhaps." Credulous said, directing his attention to the Potions teacher. "But we will not concern with that now. Not when I have Dark Arts to assist."

 _"Fight,_ Mr. McGinn," Professor Smith said sharply.

"Yes, how silly of me, _fight._ Excuse my slip, Professor."

Credulous decided to devote his attention to the students by that time. The professors were finishing their meals, and he didn't want to keep them waiting by the dining table just so they could talk their time away. He took note of the first year students, how they carefully levitated their food with their wands and testing the new-found magic in the woodwork.

He found each wand beautiful. In his mind, wands were a special tool and only the truly understanding could craft and shape them. He knew for certain that wands were the links between magic and the wizard. Without the wand, the wizard is nothing. He believed that philosophy with all of his being, preached it commonly and emphasized that wands were not toys. They were just as essential to life as water and air was. To take a wizards wand was to destroy his link with magic. Credulous's stomach twisted at the mere idea of the perfect link between wizard and magic being disabled, casted into a trash bin and forever singed.

He brushed his hand over the familiar wicker handle absently, reminded of the day when he first received his wand.

In North America, young wizards and witches were not allowed to purchase their wands as they were in Europe for Hogwarts. Ilvermorny school has a long tradition of giving wands to their students at the school, withholding them during the summer and giving them off when the young wizard or witch grew of age. Credulous could remember the first burst of magic beneath his fingertips, the addictive feeling of the handle in his hand. No one truly warns the youth how addicting magic is. It's almost as if the moment you begin, you can't stop. An inseparable devotion between both parties that cannot be destroyed. 

He could only imagine what Professor Smith had in store for that bond today, how he planned to strengthen it.

 

"Students, please, settle down." Professor's Smith sounded calmer, at ease now that he was in his element. Credulous knew how a change in setting could help shift a mood, especially a familiar setting. He preferred this professor rather than the one outside of the classroom, purely for the fact that Smith was much more agreeable and therefor tamable. Not that Credulous had ever been successful in initiating anything other than pure frustration from the man.

Credulous watched as the first years shared glances with each other and fidgeted in their chairs. He paid close attention to a muggleborn student, noting how she tapped her want against her knee and stared at the ground. He wondered if she felt anxious in a classroom. He decided to ask about it later, turning to Professor Smith as he went on in his unfavourable rant.

"I've already introduced everybody to the classroom, so it's only proper that I begin teaching you all experience. Now, who here is Pukwudgie?"

Credulous counted three hands in the air. 

"I see. Note this, the Pukwudgie have extreme difficulty in this class. I forewarn now that not all of these spells taught here are violent, let alone destructive, however, they _are_ meant to defend." Professor Smith offered a smile, one that Credulous recognized as deceptively caring, "Please ask for help if necessary."

"Who has the best scores in the class?" Asked a red-haired boy, his hand waving in the air dramatically to gain attention fast.

"Andrew Gundra," Smith said smoothly, "Though I doubt you meant to ask _who_ has the best score and instead _which house_ has the best score."

Credulous rolled his eyes and sat down on top of Professor Smith's desk, beginning to trace his wand along the wood of it. _Of course he would decide to be smart with a first year, it's probably the only time he gets to feel superior._

"Yeah, that!" The boy didn't sound fazed.

"Wampus." Smith said simply, "Thunderbird is just a few marks behind, usually."

"What house were you, professor?" 

Credulous raised his eyes, locking them on the girl who spoke. The no-maj child. He trailed his eyes to the professor, noting the square of his shoulders and puff of his chest. There was no doubt in his mind that Smith had the signature distant, superior look on his face. 

"I was a Thunderbird."

 _"Oh..."_ The girl sounded genuinely disappointed.

Credulous grinned to himself as the class was thrown into a fit of giggles and laughter, climbing off of the desk and strolling to stand beside the aghast professor. "I rather like this set of first years."

"They're almost as bad as your year." Smith said with a small bite. Credulous brushed it off, knowing fairly well that he was sore over the girl's comment. 

"Don't worry, I'm sure someone out there was glad you were in Thunderbird." He said with minimal encouragement.

"What house are you in, Mr... Louis?" _"Credulous."_ He corrected quickly, looking to the muggleborn girl and fought down his own frustration when he caught the glimpse of Professor Smith smirking smugly. He could only imagine how many times professors have referred to him as Louis for her to know that name and not his actual one. "I am in Horned Serpent."

"You don't appear like a Horned Serpent..." She mumbled not-too-quietly. Credulous would have not felt a thing for that comment if Professor Smith hadn't made a show of his amusement by laughing and waving his wand around joyously. He suddenly wanted to glare at the professor and tell him he retracted the previous statement of sentiment he made. He's fairly certain nobody wanted him in Thunderbird.

"I've stated the same, Ms. Zummers! Now, _Louis,_ please go into a dueling position and perform as the attacker."

"Yes sir." Credulous gritted, setting his jaw as he took ten paces away from the professor and got into position. His wand was raised and his legs were planted firmly and yet loose enough that if need be, he could lunge out the way of a sharp-aimed hex. He'd experienced being hexed before by accident during these example duels, and he most certainly would not like to throw up slugs or be forced to deal with extensive tickling for this year.

"For dueling," Professor Smith took his own position, looking more fluid then Credulous could ever imagine to be, "you must remain focused and relaxed."

"Must be hard for you." Credulous said flatly, a slight pride fluttering in his chest at the scattered laughter from the first years.

"Childishness, Louis, I'd keep it in check. You're not a third year anymore, remember?" Smith remained unfazed.

Credulous had to give it to him, he looked as relaxed and unbothered as a man on a vacation in Hawaii. He pondered on if he was to be the first to make a move of battle, noting to himself the smooth shuffle of Smith's shoes against the marble floor. "Certainly, Professor. My apologies."

Smith's redwood wand flicked. 

Credulous's free hand was at his mouth, clamping his jaw shut and his body was kneeling after a violent shudder through his robe. He felt his shoulders hunch over roughly and the lock of his arm behind his back. He tried feeling for his wand in his palm, registering far too slowly the fact that it was gone and skittering across the floor.

"That's a spell used to reinforce by our aurors," Smith said cockily through the gasps of surprise and awe, "It helps keep any dangerous wizards pinned and unable to utter spells."

The spell was released, but Credulous still couldn't calm the lurch in his stomach. _His wand._ He could practically feel the bond between he and the tool shuddering, the threat of something ominous hanging over his head. He summoned his wand close, holding it to his chest and glared sharply at Professor Smith as he addressed the students and seemingly forgot about ever throwing the wand away from him.

"Wands are the most useful tool you have, so disarming a potential threat is key. What I performed was wordless magic, something most of you won't be able to consider until your last year of Ilvermorny."

"You can't just throw wands away like that!" Credulous spoke up, staggering to his feet and tucking the wand safely into his pocket to shield it from further abuse. "Wands are the most _important_ tool you will ever have, not the most useful. Brooms are useful. Spoons are useful. They aren't necessary- _wands are."_

Professor Smith turned to look at him, face scrunched up into one of minor disgust and confusion, "Yes, thank you, Louis. I-"

"And they're not to be disarmed in a careless way." He said snappily, looking to the first years and swallowed to wet his drying throat, "If you break a wand, you destroy a special bond between the wand and it's owner. It's like destroying a key pillar for a building."

"Yes, _THANK YOU,_ Louis. As I-"

"And-!"

"Credulous!" Smith looked livid, although Credulous decided that the emotion was well deserved. He didn't like being cut off from his rants either. He and the Professor held a glare with each other, something long and tedious that he found his anger fleeting in. He didn't want to challenge a Professor's authority in front of first year students. So, he gave in first and adverted his eyes to the ground, biting out a _"Sorry, Professor."_

"Thank you." Smith said sharply, looking back to the students and continued his nonsense speech.

Credulous couldn't listen to it, not with the drumming in his ears. He turned to sit back on the Professor's desk, deciding to focus instead on the brush of wicker against his fingers. He made a small promise to himself, telling himself quietly that he'd check the wand back at his hut tonight before attempting another trial to halting magic. He didn't want to attempt another explosive spell with a potentially injured wand.

 _It wouldn't be good for anybody,_ He convinced himself, looking back to the first years and stifled a sigh. He wished people understood wands like he did.


	3. Twisted Around [Pt. 3]

Credulous had learned his lesson the last time he attempted to freeze free magic. He kept the door of his hut open, took down the curtain covering his window, and hid all of his jars and special tools under his bed. After a week of letting his wand have optimal resting time and working it back into strength with minor spells, he was more than prepared to tackle another act of research. He, of course, planned to use the same explosive spell as last time. If that was the spell to destroy loose magic, then he was on the right track.

He flew his magic this time in a sphere, allowing it to grow to the size of an owl before letting it rest. For good measure, he dug into his pant pocket and tossed in some dirt he scooped up on his way to his hut. The magic, just as it had done to the gold and red sand the first time, floated the dirt mid-air and let it gravitate in different patterns. Credulous took the time to study the way the dirt swirled, waiting for a few minutes for the dirt to properly spread and give him a good outline of where the magic was. Finally, he raised his wand.

_"Scolumdra Tutalem."_

As expected, the sphere detonated. Credulous was slammed into the wall of his hut, and he could feel the force of magic holding him there for a few seconds before allowing him to fall flat on the ground. His mind registered slowly what was happening around him while his eyes scanned the room frantically. He could see red and dark smoke. Finally, his brain caught up and he realized that his work desk was set aflame.

Credulous hurried to stand up and pointed his wand to the flame, " _Aguamenti."_

A small jet of water protruded from the tip of his wand, setting out the flames quickly and leaving his desk, floor, wall, and parchment paper soaked. He would have sighed if he had the ability to feel irritated. The rush of the explosion still had his brain on alert, the breath of air he had been holding during the spell still not released. He stepped away from his desk, about to let loose another sphere of magic, had he not heard the angry pecking at his window. 

Credulous's body tensed. What if the explosion had cracked his window? He turned around, releasing a quiet breath when he realized it was simply an owl. He approached the bird, opening the window and lifted a brow. It had it's black eyes on him expectantly, as if expecting him to get the message without the letter. Why was this owl here without something to send?

"May I help you?" Credulous asked.

The owl seemed to glare at him. It spread it's wings, turned, and flew back to the school. Credulous couldn't understand what brought the creature to him, not until he saw it fly into the window of an office Professor Bree, the Divination teacher, owned. His stomach sunk straight to the floor once he realized he was late to help her with her class. He flicked his wand, summoning his robe and switched out his jacket for the school's apparel, and hurried to apparate into the hallway outside of Professor Bree's classroom. He walked as confidently as he could into the room, offering a small bow of his head in Professor Bree's direction.

"Sorry for being late, Professor."

"No need, Credulous, we were just beginning to tell fortunes." Professor Bree sounded fond, a rich difference to her horned owl that had reminded him of his job. He raised his head to smile gratefully at the Professor. She's one of the younger professors of the school, alongside Professor Smith. Professor Bree had a gentle air around her, collected and fair-minded. Credulous thought it be fitting, for she is also one of the most beautiful on Ilvermorny grounds. Her skin and hair are dark- save for the fact that her hair fades into a light purple-, nose is rounded with an undefined bridge, and her smile is enough to put anybody at ease. 

Credulous wondered how she got paired up with such a grumpy owl-- let alone lasted being in the same year as Professor Smith.

"Mister Smith is not so bad, Credulous, and my beautiful Nippy is not as grumpy as you paint him to be." Professor Bree said, a shine of knowing in her eyes. She's also a Legilimens. 

Credulous scoffed at that, shaking his head and looking around the classroom to check on who might need help or leading, "Nippy is an appropriate name. Who would you wish me to help?"

"The group of girls over there," Credulous caught where she was motioning, "they can't read their fortune moss."

"Sounds familiar." Credulous said quietly, making his way over before Professor Bree could tap into his mind again and embarrass him. He recalled being horrible at Divination, especially when it came to reading moss in a bowl. Moss didn't seemed like the right tool to tell what would happen in the future, but according to Professor Bree, it was the perfect tool.

"Can I help any of you?" Credulous asked once he approached the sixth year students, noting how they seemed to be trading off gossip with each other rather than focusing on their work.

"My moss says this class is stupid." A girl spoke, turning to him and pushing a strand of brown hair from her face. 

"Your moss sounds like it's telling the present rather than the future." He returned.

"Must be a malfunction!" She huffed, setting the bowl down on the table in front of herself, "What do they do to malfunctioning moss?"

"Dunno," Credulous smiled, "perhaps in the future, we'll find out."

"Perhaps," She tipped her head towards him, studying for a moment. Credulous wondered if he looked disheveled after the explosion in his hut.

"I'm Penny Huston." "Credulous McGinn." 

She wrinkled her nose in distaste, "McGinn is a horrible name!"

Credulous couldn't stop himself from laughing at that, pulling a chair to sit beside her and scooted in to take a peek at what was in her bowl. He eyed the moss, trying to understand what he saw in it before giving up and looking back to her. "I think you need to just toss the moss around again."

"It's not like I got anything better to do," Penny sighed, looking back to her bowl and started swiveling it about lazily. Credulous could sympathize for her boredom. He wasn't any good at the class either- not that it mattered, because almost nothing he foresaw happened. No job offerings have happened this year, let alone any Quidditch game that would change his life. Honestly, he has no idea what Professor Bree was insisting when she forewarned him about this hogwash. 

"Hey, sit over here and let me read your future." 

Credulous perked at the new voice, turning his head to face a lanky boy who sat just a few chairs away, holding his bowl expertly and staring at Credulous expectantly. He took the time to study his face for a quick second, noticing the scar across his eyebrow and snake-bite piercings on his bottom lip.

 _Alright,_ He thought.

Credulous glanced to Penny, just to make sure she was fine alone, and then scooted in and sat in front of the boy. "Alright, read it."

"You're suppose to be that kid who has to go here another year to graduate, right?" The boy asked casually, swirling the bowl with expert ease. Credulous wondered if he found himself another _Professor Bree._

"Uh- Yeah, I am."

"Why? You stupid?"

"No!" Credulous's face reddened, "My birthday is at a rather odd placement, so if I graduated last year, I would have been sixteen."

"Interesting- mind giving me a strand of hair? Thanks- I always figured you were stuck here because you didn't pay attention. Good to know."

"Glad I could clear up that ridiculous idea." Credulous wondered why he allowed himself to be pulled into this conversation.

"Your seventeen now, though, yeah?"

"Sadly." _Why did he say that out loud?_

"Why stay?"

Credulous paused, contemplating to himself. Well, he supposed he didn't know _why_ he initially decided to just roll with being a helper for the teachers. "Besides the fact that I still need to finish the year, I'd like to think it's because I know I'm needed here."

"Optimistic. Didn't depict you as the glass-half-full type!" The boy gave him a mischievous glance, and Credulous just realized that his eyes were a sharp shade of green.

"I prefer drinking out of a mug, actually," Credulous said without thinking, _again._

 _What is wrong with me?_ He thought.

In return, the boy gave a predatory grin and looked down at the bowl, eyeing the slosh of moss inside. Credulous hoped that there was an exit to the conversation in the near future, simply because he wasn't used to speaking his mind so openly before. He had no idea why this boy had such an effect on him- maybe he felt put off when the boy asked if he was dumb. 

 _I am most certainly not dumb!_ He thought to himself indignantly. 

"I see... a snake," The boy tilted his head, looking curious with what he achieved through searching into Credulous's future, "a four-leaf-clover, and... hm."

"What? Is it a tombstone?" His tongue just wouldn't cooperate today and Credulous decided it was a lost cause.

"Merlin no! That'd be easy to recognize. It looks like a broken plate." He made a face, lifting a brow and turned back to Credulous, "You break plates for a living?"

"Absolutely not. I feel like this whole conversation is just traveling down the path of obscurity."

He grinned again, "Perhaps. Well, if not a broken plate, it must be a half moon! What an unlucky symbol."

"What's it mean? What do either of them mean?" He made a face of confusion when the boy straightened his back, once again staring into his eyes with a rather frightening intensity that Credulous could only register as confident and bold.

"Four-leaf-clover obviously means luck, a snake is generally bad- I wouldn't be surprised if it meant betrayal, a corruption of some sort- the half moon means a beginning of life or the end of it." The boy shrugged, "Oh- also- I'm Mickey Crulaeu!"

"Wow." Was all Credulous could truly muster into the conversation.

"A proper response would be, Oh, hello Mickey! I'm...?" Mickey left the statement open, and Credulous just realized that he was suppose to answer.

"Credulous." 

"Huh. I thought it would be some form of Louis- that's what teachers call you, right?"

"To my utter dismay, yes." He fiddled with his robe, trying mentally to figure out a way to hold his tongue down. Mickey didn't seem to notice or mind, so that was a bit of a relief.

"Interesting. You only assist teachers, right? Not anything else like house elves or the Pukwudgies?" 

"Honestly, I don't see the Pukwudgies often. House elves are more friends, so helping them isn't as much of a burden as it is some teachers." Credulous shrugged, "Why the curiosity?"

Mickey smiled, "Just want to know about you, is all. I remember in my second year how you were the only third year who could create a patronus on the first try! I always thought that was cool."

"I think it's just because I hold certain memories closer to my heart than other kids did their third year." Credulous fought the urge to bite down on his tongue. He didn't like how open he was being, it felt like he was laying too much of himself down in front of a stranger.

Mickey returned to the bowl, swiveling it about in a lazy manner, "Like what?"

Credulous set his jaw, taking a shallow breath through his nose and fought his instinct to answer on command. Mickey looked up at that, looking surprised at his sudden silence. A moment of realization passed across his face and he gave a weak, shy grin.

"Sorry," He said, "I know I prod a lot into other's lives. It's annoying, right?"

Credulous found his breath, "No. It's... It encourages me to be honest, I suppose." 

"Yeah?" Mickey tilted his head up, his shy grin evolving back to confident.

"Yeah." Credulous offered a smile, leaning back into his chair, "So... are you free after this class?"

 

Credulous and Mickey found each other after Divination. Mickey said offhandedly that he was going to sit under a tree on grounds before he had made plans with Credulous, and Credulous had insisted that they go do it anyway. He wouldn't mind a little outside air, especially since after he was done hanging out with Mickey he knew he was going to need to work on his magic-freezing spell. So, they found the tree, which was surprisingly bare and it's roots were growing awkwardly outside of the dirt beneath it.

"I never caught what house you're in," Credulous said as he looked through a book on hexes while Mickey studied for a Potions test, looking a little bored but overall seemed to pay attention.

"Wampus. I was accepted into both Wampus and Horned Serpent, but I preferred Wampus." Mickey looked up, glancing at Credulous's book before turning back to his own, "No offense."

"None taken. I wasn't picked for any other house." Credulous shrugged, wondering vaguely to himself if he would have picked another house had it been offered to him. 

At Ilvermorny, the houses chose you. Pukwudgie rose it's bow, Thunderbird had it's wings flutter, Wampus roared, and Horned Serpent's crystals glowed. Credulous, along with the majority of students, were only chosen by one house. Although, there were chances where multiple houses laid claim to one student, so therefor the student was free to choose. 

"What house would you have picked, if you had the option?" Mickey sounded intrigued, so Credulous decided to allow this new found honesty in him to take over for the moment. He liked humouring him.

"I would have chosen Pukwudgie. I think the fact that they are known as the healers is high praise." He leaned back closer into the root of the tree, pulling the Book of Hexes up to his face to read a subtext, "Maybe I could learn to act from the heart rather than the mind."

"Being smart is overall better than being empathetic, though, isn't it?" He could hear the frown in Mickey's voice.

"I guess. But when all you know is your mind, you kinda miss your heart. It's like a robot becoming empathetic." Credulous shrugged.

"A robot? That's a  _no-maj_ term." 

Credulous paused, a sudden tightness in his chest. He looked to Mickey in alarm, wondering if he would need to defend himself from a look of disgust, but instead saw open curiosity and shock. "Oh, uh, yeah. I like talking to the no-maj-born first year students."

"That's cool." Mickey's face washed into one of kind interest, "Maybe I should start doing that. I know a little bit about no-majes, but that's only because of my brother and sister-in-law."

Credulous frowned, tilting his head, "Why? Are they no-maj-born too?"

"Nah, they're squips." Mickey's smile turned strained and he looked back down to his Potions text book, "My brother hates it. Being a squip, I mean."

Credulous thought to himself for a bit, then scooted in closer to Mickey to give him some form of comfort. "I wish we solved that mystery; how people could be born squips."

"We will, one day." Mickey said confidently, looking up to him with a glint in his eyes.

Credulous smiled, nodding back to Mickey with the same confidence. 

_Yeah, we will._


	4. Twisted Around [Pt. 4]

Credulous had went to bed late that night. His whole body was sore, still throbbing painfully from the endless hours of testing he had done. His magic was strained, especially with how much he let loose into the atmosphere during the sessions. Not to mention the fact that he had successfully smashed through his hut wall more than once and had to repair it each time, spending a tedious amount of time cleaning up the mess he created. Even this morning, when Credulous was using his magic to put on his robe and tidy up his hair, he was doing it with a choppy drag in his movements.

His wand was, without a doubt, also strained. Credulous had apologized numerously to it as he approached the dining hall. He tucked it soundly into his pocket, caressing the wicker handle to help ease the strained bond between his magic and it. His eyes picked up on Mickey's brown hair almost instantly, and he moved straight for the boy without thinking about it. He could sit with him for the beginning of breakfast, then spend the remainder at the teachers table and figure out who he was to help today.

 _Hopefully I can just sit in and not perform anything,_ Credulous thought.

"Hey," Mickey greeted, looking up from his toast and Credulous almost allowed himself to grin at the exhausted look he had on his face.

"Did you stay up all night studying?" He asked, sitting beside Mickey despite the multiple offended looks he received from the other Wampus students. He supposed having a Horned Serpent sit at a table meant for the Wampus wasn't necessarily respectful, but Credulous was fairly certain that they could handle it for today.

"Yeah," Mickey closed his eyes, "I despise Potions. I'm never going to want to see, or hear, the word _dock leaf_ again."

Credulous grinned despite himself, "I feel ya, I've been staying up late too."

"Really?" Mickey's eyes opened, "Why?"

"Oh, I'm working on a way to freeze free magic." 

Instantly, Credulous felt a stronger throb in his bones. His stomach twisted and he wondered if he looked as horrified as he felt. He didn't mean to say that out loud- he wasn't suppose to let anybody know about his studies. He was suppose to be quiet about it. He held his breath as Mickey's eyes drifted down tiredly to his plate, looking completely uninterested in what he gave in.

 _What's going on with me?_ He thought, suddenly worried that he was under some type of sickness that rendered him helpless to speaking his mind.

"Sounds boring." Mickey mumbled, "No offense, or anything."

"None taken." He said, turning away from Mickey and focused instead on the way his fingers brushed against the handle of his wand. He tried to relax his anxiety by scanning around the room, watching the Horned Serpent students as they mingled amongst themselves and then finally focused on the Headmaster taking to his Deputy, Professor Opulas. 

If Credulous was honest, he had a hard time understanding the difference between Headmaster Impeci and Professor Opulas. They both were old, Opulas more so, and both of them had gray hair and long, curled beards. Their cranberry-coloured robes were both lined with blue and gold, signifying their importance. Credulous supposed the only way he could actually tell them apart was their voice and the slight height different Professor Opulas had on Headmaster Impeci. He watched as the two older men mumbled amongst themselves, then slid his eyes across the table and tensed when his gaze locked onto icy blue ones.

Professor Smith was staring at him, glaring darkly. Credulous lifted a brow in response, tilting his head up challengingly and scoffing when Smith turned to Professor Bree and seemed to say something intelligible, something that made Headmaster Impeci snap his head towards them for a few seconds before returning back to Professor Opulas.

 _What were they talking about? Is Smith talking about me to Professor Bree?_ He furrowed his eyebrows.

Mickey broke him out of his thoughts, "You look upset." 

"Yeah, I guess... I dunno. Professor Smith kinda gets under my skin." Credulous looked at Mickey.

"Yeah, I heard he only teases the kids he likes the most though." Mickey had a look of knowing in his eyes that Credulous didn't share. He felt like he was the least liked out of Professor Smith's class, especially with how darkly he was staring at him just now. 

"Perhaps." He said flatly, closing his eyes to hide a bit of his frustration from his new friend. He didn't want, or need, to think about what Professor Smith was thinking. He also didn't care to find out what he told Professor Bree.

Mickey's voice was surprisingly soothing to his emotions, "Y'know, I hope I get to teach here one day."

Credulous opened his eyes to look at him, watching as Mickey studied his own wand. Credulous noticed instantly that it was made of a white silverleaf poplar bark, and when he focused particularly on the magic radiating from it, he could tell it was cored with Dragon Heartstring and something else- _possibly shell_. Credulous wondered instantly what a shell added to a wands core, and decided later to read about it. "You do?"

"Yeah," Mickey got a small smile, something glinting in his eyes, "I want to teach Defense Against The Dark Arts. It's my favourite class- no matter how slow Professor Smith decides to teach it- and I think that if I practice enough, I can perfect it."

Credulous felt the drag of longing in his chest at Mickey's comment. He wished for as much himself, if for a different subject. He wanted to perfect his spell, he wanted to show people the importance of wands and their bonds, and he wanted to bring awareness to the disgusting punishment of breaking a wand. Even at the mere thought of it, his chest tightened painfully and he reached for his wand protectively. He could sympathize for Mickey's wishes too well.

"You'll do it." He said, hoping that the sincerity of his emotions poured into his words since he knew his voice wouldn't reflect it well enough, "You'll get that job and you'll do great."

Mickey looked at Credulous, that glint still in his eye but his face softening from tired to relaxed, "Thanks, Louis."

Somehow, hearing his nickname from Mickey wasn't as irritating as it normally was from anybody else.

"I need to go talk to the teachers," Credulous said, sounding a tad irritated to himself. He opened his mouth to tag on an apology, but Mickey raised his hand and gave a sympathetic smile. 

"Don't worry about it. I'll catch you around, maybe."

"Maybe." Credulous smiled to himself and stood up from the Wampus table. He walked towards the teachers, glancing wearily at Professor Smith before changing his path and heading for Professor Filemonsen. He hasn't helped her in a while, perhaps he can convince her to let him tag along for a few classes. He tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, taking an empty seat from beside Professor Sewall and pulling it to stand beside the Transfiguration teacher. Her face lit up when she noticed him, offering her signature gentle smile.

"Hello, Louis!" 

"Hello, Professor Filemonsen." Credulous smiled and sat beside her, noticing that her wand was on the table. He wouldn't have thought a thing about it had he not known that Filemonsen was particularly keen on where she set her wand. And it was facing behind the Headmaster, to where the Wampus table was. "Your wand is out...?"

"Oh, yes! Thought I'd keep it out of these dastardly pockets. Have you noticed how flimsy they are? I practically tore it yesterday showing the children how to transfigure a cup into a rat." Professor Filemonsen waved her hand, a look of exasperation on her face, "Honestly! You'd think as the most famous school of Wizardry that we could afford something other than rags."

"Now, Professor Filemonsen," Professor Sewall huffed, "Don't you go ahead of yourself. We all know Mahoutokoro is the most renounced school." 

Credulous vaguely wondered what would happen if he told the old man to stop barging into his and Professor Filemonsen's conversations.

"I sense some bias." Filemonsen said sneakily, a smile returning to her face, "Don't worry Stewie, Mahoutokoro is a close second."

Sewall's face turned livid.

Credulous quickly spoke again, not prepared to hear the man go on about his descendants, "Professor Filemonsen, I was wondering if you would need my assistance for today. Any classes at all."

"Oh, Louis," She sighed, "I'd let you teach a class if the Headmaster wouldn't have my head for it. Yes, I'd adore some assistance for today. Especially with the first and second years!"

"Oh dear," He smiled knowingly, "Anybody giving you trouble?"

"You'd think I'd ask them to retrieve The Elder Wand with how they treat simple spells!" She shook her head, a stray strand of gray hair falling from her loose bun as she did so, "Leviosa has never been more tedious."

"I'd be happy to help." Credulous said, wondering if the affection he felt for the old woman was showing in his voice or not. He supposed that even if it wasn't, it didn't matter, because Professor Filemonsen locked on him with a small grin that showed her complete delight to his assistance.

 

Breakfast ended quicker than he'd thought it would. Credulous was hurrying out of his hut, stuffing his _Book of Hexes_ and a few Transfiguration novels just to make sure that, if any questions were sent his way that he was ill-prepared on, he could quickly find the answer. He also packed a few quills, simply because he remembered being a student and being constantly out of them. 

 _At this point, being prepared is just becoming another personality trait of mine,_ He thought to himself as he approached the Ilvermorny castle. He ducked behind the school, knowing that there was a door in the back that would take him straight to Professor Filemonsen's room if he asked.

It could lead to any room, really. Just ask, and it would open to the destination of choice. Credulous knew that if he asked to go to New York or France, it would take him there. Although, he also knew that incredible distances such as that were a tremendous strain for magic. He couldn't imagine why people would intentionally force magic to strain, or offer the _option_ of it.

"Maybe they just don't care." Credulous said to himself, bitter with his own thoughts.

"Don't care about what?"

Credulous whipped around, taking out his wand and pointing it at where the voice came from behind him. In the same second, he felt a familiar buckle of his legs and shudder under his robes. He dropped to his knees, feeling his hand lock behind his back and the other over his mouth. He tried feeling for his wand, frustrated that he allowed it, once again, to be thrown out of his grasp. He glared at the spell caster.

"Sorry," Professor Smith said, not looking like he meant it, and waved his wand to release the disarming spell. Credulous didn't bother responding, instead choosing to look around himself for his wand so he could offer reassurance to it's strain. Although, when Credulous felt for any weakening in his bond with it, he couldn't find anything that he didn't feel before being forced on his knees.

"Looking for this?"

Credulous looked back to Smith, perking when he saw the wicker handle of his wand being offered out to him, the tip pointing towards Smith. He didn't seem nervous about having the wand pointed towards him, something that Credulous took a note of as he stood up and reached for it. "Glad to see you didn't toss it about like a child." He bit out.

"After having a hot-headed kid yell at you over it, you learn not to do it again." Professor Smith's eyes glinted with that familiar malice. Although, his voice contrasted with a laugh towards the end.

"Good." He said shortly, quickly adding, "Did you follow me?"

Professor Smith's eyes lost the glint, and his voice suddenly strengthened, "I needed to talk to you. I think-"

"It can wait," Credulous shook his head, "I need to help Professor Filemonsen right now. I don't have time for a conversation."

"Fine, come talk to me afterwards, then." Professor Smith's voice tightened.

"I..." Credulous trailed off, wondering to himself if he was willing to make the time for the Professor. He needed to work on his spell. He refused to let his research get away from him, all because a Dark Arts teacher wants to have a chat with him. No doubt it was going to be about him stepping out of line, or over something else just as equally frustrating.

 _Do I really want to spend anymore time with Professor Smith than I need to?_ He thought to himself.

"Louis, It's important." Professor Smith furrowed his eyebrows, opening his mouth to say another thing. Credulous turned away before he could, instead hurriedly storming off to the door.

"We'll see." He called over his shoulder.

_"Louis!"_

He truly hates hearing Professor Smith call him _Louis._ While he helped Professor Filemonsen with her class, he pondered the entire time if he should see Professor Smith at all for the day. As Credulous worked on his spell, making more tiny explosions and a lifetime supply worth of ash on his floor, he still pondered on meeting with Smith. What could he want to talk about? Was it about Defense Against The Dark Arts? Was it about him and his wand? Was it about their (however reluctant) relationship as teacher and student?

Credulous had decided, by the seventh time of his back slamming against the door of his hut, that he wouldn't see Professor Smith that day.


	5. Under the Weather Wood [Pt. 1]

"Be cautious when you're cutting this aconite root- they're a little explosive around the eye of the newt. Well, not necessarily _explosive,_ but, more-so tedious to deal with." Credulous explained, slicing into the root carefully and easing from the top to bottom to complete the slice. Potions class was a little bit harder today than it was any other day, specifically because students were practicing for the real deal. When the day came for these sixth years to brew their own potion of choice and test it on another wizard, they would face the consequences of either a correctly, or incorrectly, made potion.

"What happens?" A boy, Mark Phelps, asked as he scribbled down notes. Credulous couldn't help but feel a glowing pride for the boy and how he represented the house of Horned Serpent. He didn't mind helping Horned Serpent students, even if they were partnered up with another house like Wampus did in Divination or how they are now with the Thunderbirds.

"The eye turns bright purple if any of the root's fragments touch it." Credulous pulled back from cutting, setting the knife aside and looked to Mark as he scribbled down, careful to speak at the speed he was writing, "It's because the root has something called _crophyceps_ in it. It's a defense mechanism that helps keep the aconite alive."

"Why doesn't it infect us?" Mark glanced up from his page, looking curious.

"We've got a nice thing inside our body that can fight off whatever the root places into us at twice the rate of which it can infect." Credulous smiled, motioning to the newt eye, "Which is why, even after handling the aconite, we can still touch other things normally infected by it."

"What's the thing that can fight off the poison in the root?"

Credulous felt himself falter, losing his smile and shrugging unenthusiastically, "Not much people care. I believe it's our magic but... I'm not sure."

Mark gave a look of disbelief, one of which Credulous could sympathize for. He didn't understand why people didn't care, especially when the answer was so unclear. It was as if the wizarding community had no curiosity for things that didn't affect them. He turned back to the root, eyeing the slices and opting to throw them into the cauldron, wincing back at the loud hiss it emitted.

"We're going to wait about ten minutes to let it all settle and even out." Credulous looked back to Mark, "If you want, you can practice how to slide aconite root and I'll come back and help you if you need it."

"Thanks, I think I'm gonna do that." Mark stood up, leaving his notes behind and approaching the table with caution. Credulous assumed that he was worried about the hissing noise still happening. He offered an encouraging nod, focusing his attention to the group of girls speaking amongst each other. He walked towards them, in the mood to see if he could tease them into staying on topic like Professor Filemonsen usually does with her students.

"Hey ladies, what're you talking about?" Credulous crossed his arms, noting the few surprised glances he got in response, "Is it about how to properly mix Felix Felicis?"

"I wish!" A girl barked, "I'll need all I can get of that just to be able to work my stupid dress."

Credulous furrowed his eyebrows, glancing at the other girls for clarification.

"There's a dance in a few months," A Pukwudgie explained, fixing her curly hair to stay out of her face, "It's gonna be hosted by the fifth years- I heard it's really good. The no-maj born really fought for it- what did they call it, Katy?" 

"Prime?" Katy, a short-haired girl with a round nose guessed.

"Prime!" The Pukwudgie grinned, looking back to Credulous, "It's suppose to be really formal, dates and all."

"Does the whole school know about it?" He asked.

"No, but we're tryna pass the word around. Wanna help? I bet I could find you a date." She grinned mischievously, but Credulous shrugged it off and shook his head.

"No. Not interested. Dances don't belong at Ilvermorny, especially during school time. How did Headmaster Impeci take it?"

"He needed a little convincing from the teachers, but it's all fine. Professor Bree is going to facilitate it with Professor Smith." Katy piped up, an emphasis in her voice that Credulous didn't quiet understand. What did it matter if Professor Bree was going to be there with Professor Smith? It was going to be especially boring if Smith was there.

"Hm." He said shortly, "Well, ladies, I'm quite sure it will be fun for you all, but it's preparation time for the Potions test at the end of this month and I'm fairly certain I heard Professor Sewall was going to make it especially difficult." 

A familiar voice to his right pipped up, "Mr. McGinn, you're being entirely too harsh."

Credulous focused his attention over to the direction of the voice, blinking to himself as Penny Huston approached him. She looked considerably different now, her hair pulled up into a messy bun with crescent-shaped glasses perched on her nose. She looked comfortable and in her element.

"Perhaps. Did you ever figure out that moss?" He asked. He noticed instantly how her cheeked reddened at his comment and allowed himself a moment of amusement.

"Well, apparently I'm suppose to run into a werewolf at some point." She scoffed, "Honestly, Divination is about as useful as Astrology."

"Have you heard?" He said, deciding to change the subject just incase she got too flustered, "There's a Prime going on."

Penny's face contorted to one of confusion, "Prime?"

"A dance. It's happening in a few months, so I've heard." He glanced pointedly at the ladies beside him, who were back to mingling about whatever a Prime dance consisted of.

"Oh- _Prom!"_ Penny laughed, her face lighting up considerably, "Prime! That's funny. I'll have to tell my date about that."

"You have a date already?" He blinked, shoulders dropping. Was he that far behind on the knowledge?

"Well, I sure hope I have a date. I've been dating her for a few years now." She shook her head, a few strands of hair falling from her bun, "She's in Hogwarts. Her name is Gabbie Malfoy."

"Huh." He huffed, "A Malfoy?"

His face must have shown his concern, because Penny suddenly looked defensive and fiddled with her robe. "Yes, a Malfoy. And don't get any ideas either, because she's different. She's a Griffendor!"

"Even worse!" Credulous felt his nose wrinkle in distaste, "They're always so noisy and opinionated."

"Yes, and she's all of those things, but she's _my_ noisy and opinionated gal." Penny's got a proud smile on her face, a look of pure pride on being able to claim a girl at a different school as hers. Credulous decided it was brave for her to even take on the responsibility of a relationship, so he offered what he hoped to be an encouraging smile right back at her and nodded his head.

"She's very lucky to be invited to a Pri- _Prom_ with someone like you."

Penny tilted her head, "Do you have one?"

"One what?" Credulous frowned.

"A date! I'm sure I could find a few people for you." Penny got a look on her face of pure determination, and Credulous realized why she was so compatible with a Griffendor.

"No, thank you," He shook his head, "Not interested. Dances? Just for the fun of it? I'll be content in my hut, doing work and being productive. No use wasting money." 

"What a horribly pessimistic way of thinking." Penny laughed despite her words, "Don't worry, I'll check around anyway. Who wouldn't want to go to a dance with the teacher-help?"

"It'd be easier to tell you the small list of who would!" Credulous scoffed, shaking his head and turning to look back at Mark as he fiddled with cutting the aconite root, "I better go continue my job. See ya, Penny."

"Bye Louis." 

Credulous didn't bother correcting her about his name. At this point, he was fairly sure half the school actually thought that was his name and it would take too much energy insisting it wasn't to every person he ran into. Instead, he focused all his energy into helping Mark and other students of the classroom until the time was over and he was left behind with Professor Sewall to clean up the potion stations for the next round of students. By the time he got to his sixth cauldron, Credulous heard the door of the Potions room swing open and slam against the wall. He was ashamed to admit that he jumped.

Credulous turned to face the noise, blinking a few times when he saw Professor Filemonsen walk into the room with a hurried jump in her step. She glanced around the room, catching his eye and relaxed considerably.

"Louis, are you busy right now? May I take you?" She asked.

"Uh- Professor Sewall?" He looked to the Professor, who just threw his hand in a lazy direction and grunted. 

"Yes, yes. Thank you for your service, Mr. McGinn."

"No problem..." Credulous looked to Filemonsen and set down the rag he was using to clean, hurriedly making his way to her and followed her outside of the room. She walked hurriedly, feet stomping on the ground as she twisted her wand in her hand. 

"Professor Filemonsen...?" 

"I'm in need of your help, Louis," She said slowly, "It requires us to leave Ilvermorny..."

"... What do you need my help with?" He furrowed his eyebrows, "Professor Filemonsen, I'm-"

"I can't tell you until we reach our destination. I'm certain you can help, Credulous."

He almost froze on the spot as she said his real name. Was this truly as important as Professor Filemonsen felt it was? 

 _It must be,_ He told himself, or else Filemonsen wouldn't look as anxious as she was. _I hope I can really help her._

"Okay." He said quietly, "Alright. Where are we going? How are we going there?"

"The door behind Ilvermorny; it's connected directly to where we need to go." Professor Filemonsen explained.

 "I see." Credulous said quietly, wondering to himself just how much strain that would put on the door's magic. He also didn't like how, when they passed the teacher's lounge, Professor Smith seemed to instantly notice them moving past the doorway. He felt a sudden heaviness in his stomach. He could only imagine when Professor Smith would try to grab him and talk about  _whatever_ it is he wanted to talk about.

 _Should I even care what he wanted to talk about?_ Credulous thought to himself. He decided not to worry about it until he got done helping Professor Filemonsen.

When Filemonsen and he finally were able to walk through the door and into an entirely new building Credulous was unfamiliar with, he tensed up and glanced around rapidly. There was a few different staircases, tons of desks, many people hurrying around holding papers- some of them holding living creatures, for some ungodly reason,- and others sitting at those desks and yelling into a phone.

 _Did we go through the wrong door?_ He thought worriedly, looking to Filemonsen for help and jumped into action when he realized she was gone. 

"Uh oh." He said, looking around and walking in a direction to try and find someone who didn't look like they could bite off his head. What's he going to do if he can't find Filemonsen? Would he have to leave? He doesn't even know where he is!

"Uh, hello? I'm sorry," Credulous started as he approached a random desk, "I'm a little lost-"

"What are you doing down here?" The man's eyes shot up, turning bright with apprehension. Credulous hurried to lift his hands up in surrender when a wand suddenly pressed to his neck, the man expressing speed of which he has never seen before.

"I- uh- Well-" He snapped his mouth shut when the man stood up. He could feel an overwhelming burst of magic, although no spell was casted. The wand. The man's wand was being strained, as if it had just got done suffering through something excruciatingly tedious.

"Don't cast a spell." Credulous said firmly, ignoring the man's look of angered shock, "Your wand is exhausted. I came here with a professor of Ilvermorny school, Filemonsen."

The man- Credulous sneaked a glance down at his desks plaque- _Mr. Rose's_ face fell instantly at the mention of his professor's name. He pulled his wand away and straightened out, glancing around the room before focusing back on Credulous and frowning deeply. 

"Where is she?"

"Uh... I don't know." He blinked.

"She probably went to grab Auror Phorlum. He's the Director around here." Mr. Rose lifted a brow accusingly, "Do you know where you are?"

"No," Credulous said honestly.

"You're at MACUSA. In the heart of it, really," He explained, seemingly pleased with Credulous's answer, "She didn't tell you why you're here either, did she?"

Credulous scoffed, "I sure wish she had. I'm beginning to worry that I'm being convicted of something."

"Not yet." Rose said. "You mentioned something interesting about my wand, how it was straining. How did you tell?"

"How can you not?" Credulous lifted a brow and almost allowed himself to sneer, "That wands bond with you is- excuse the bluntness- not exactly at it strongest right now. Almost like you're not the original owner." He hummed thoughtfully, judging Mr. Rose's face and decided that wasn't true with how calmly he stared at him. "Just a little bit of relaxing for it would do it some good, a full day, even."

"Ha! Getting anybody around here to relax for a day requires more than a doctors note, Louis."

Credulous whipped around, relief flooding his body when he saw Professor Filemonsen approaching him with another man behind her. He had a shaved head, dark skin, dull eyes and a sharp thin scar from his ear to the tip of his nose. Credulous made sure not to stare at the scar and instead focus on Professor Filemonsen. 

"You just ditched me." He said accusingly.

"Sorry." She offered that sweet smile, to which Credulous just sighed in defeat and shrugged his shoulders.

"It's okay." He said.

"I'm Lunar Phorlum." The man spoke, catching his attention instantly. His voice was startlingly deep. "I am the Director of Magic Security. I trust Auror Rose has brought you up to what we wish to do?"

"Not exactly." Credulous frowned.

"I see." Lunar's eyes narrowed, "Auror Rose, come with us."

Rose stood up, "Yes sir." 

Credulous watched Director Phorlum lead the way. He stuck close to Filemonsen and trailed his eyes around MACUSA as they walked to whatever room they were leading to. It looked so busy and the noise in the building hurt his ears. He didn't like how everybody was either yelling or running. He certainly didn't enjoy the overwhelming bursts of magic around the office. So many bonds were being strained. He almost wanted to holler at the whole office and just demand they set their wands down and take a nap.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Professor Filemonsen asked, sounding pleased. 

Credulous looked to her in surprise, "Not at all." He furrowed his eyebrows, "Everything here is... tense."

"Oh yes!" Filemonsen smiled, "But it is very pleasant to be here. Especially at night hours. Have I told you about my first overnight shift? It was-"

"We're here." Director Phorlum interrupted, looking back to the three and opened a metal door. Credulous glanced at Mr. Rose for some type of hint on if he should be concerned or not, but the man simply lifted a brow and motioned for him to go ahead.

 _You're almost as bad as Professor Smith!_ He thought in frustration, walking into the room after the Director and tensed when he realized it was an interrogation room. He looked back to check if Filemonsen was following him, needing some type of grounding. He released the breath he was holding when he saw her step in and close the door behind them, leaving Auror Rose outside of the room. She smiled warmly at him and motioned for Credulous to sit on the other side of the table, facing where the one-way mirror was.

 _They want Rose to be able to see me,_ He realized. 

Credulous looked suspiciously to the Director, then took his seat and watched Filemonsen and Director Phorlum sit down comfortably. He took notice of the thin box on the ground beside Director Phorlum, but decided not to worry himself with it. It was probably left behind. After all, none of them came in with anything.

 _Unless they were prepared for me,_ He thought.

"We've heard a little about you from Professor Filemonsen." Lunar began, sitting straight and maintaining his eyes on Credulous. He wondered if he was trying to use legilimency on him. He held his tongue, instead deciding to let Lunar continue with what he might know about him. The Director seemed to catch onto this immediately and spoke once again, "Specifically your interest in wands."

Credulous involuntarily scoffed. The Director's eyes narrowed, and his frown pulled into a thinner line.

"It's not an interest." He said simply, glancing at Filemonsen and back to Phorlum, "An interest requires curiosity."

"You know all you can?" The Director returned smoothly.

"Wands aren't hard to understand." Credulous tilted his head just slightly, "They work just like we do."

"And if we were to rename your relationship with wands, what would you call it?" The Director didn't seem as tense as before, instead now curious.

 _Or is that suspicion?_ He thought. "A mutual care."

"There was a young man who sat where you are right now," The Director placed his hands on the table, leaning in, "and he said the same thing to me. He lied. Don't lie to me, Mr. McGinn."

Credulous eyed the man, fighting the urge to tense his shoulders and instead leaned in to whisper lowly, "If you thought I didn't care, I wouldn't be here. What am I here for besides an interrogation?"

He didn't miss the glint in the man's eye. He wondered if he overstepped a boundary, but decided that it didn't matter. He hasn't done anything illegal, and his care for wands was genuine enough for him to feel frustrated at the mere thought of someone thinking he was lying about it. 

 _At this point,_ He thought, _how could someone doubt me?_

"We have a wand here. I want you to tell me everything you can about it." Lunar sat up once again, taking up the box on the floor- Credulous glanced at FIlemonsen for a quick second to make sure he didn't need to worry- and placed it on the table. Credulous furrowed his eyebrows, the air suddenly feeling a lot more threatening now that the box was in his sight. He figured it was the Director, but as the man started opening the box, the sickly feeling began tingling on his neck and face, the only exposed skin on his body.

"Don't touch it." He warned ruefully, his full focus on the box. He watched careful hands open it, then slide it towards Credulous and show off the wand that laid inside on top of dark purple bedding. It was black with white flexes, curving just slightly a few inches above the handle. Credulous placed his hands in his lap, gripping his robe to keep from touching the wood to test for texture. There was something wrong with it. It felt like if he touched it, his fingers would turn just as black as the wood.

"Louis?" Filemonsen asked.

"What'd you do to it?" Credulous asked, looking accusingly at the two in front of him.

"We did nothing to it besides place it into this casing." The Director explained, "Anything you see wrong with it is from the caster of the wand."

Credulous didn't believe him, but he decided to instead look back at the wand and finally raise his hands up to hover. The wand felt sick. He has never dealt with a sick wand before, but it made sense that wands could get sick.

If they could get weak and tired, they can get sick.

It all seemed far too obvious now that he was seeing it. Credulous cautiously lifted the wand out of the casing, gritting his teeth as the magic in the wand tried to desperately latch onto his. He was lucky that he was his own wand so close to him, or else he was sure the bond wouldn't be enough to protect from the alien magic tingling up his arms.

"What do you see?" The Director sounded impatient.

"A black wand." Credulous said back just as snappily, testing the handle of the wand. It felt light. Too light. He blinked in surprise, looking at the two in front of him and then back to the wand. "It's new."

"New?" Filemonsen asked.

"Yeah, the magic isn't strong. It's new, young, _uh-_ just given out. This belongs to a child." He twisted the wand around, "It's core is a Thunderbird's tail feather... the way the wand is bended, I'd have to assume the holder is left-handed." Credulous pressed his thumb into the handle, wincing back when the black of the wand chipped off and crumpled on the table. He widened his eyes, quickly rubbing his thumb harder on the handle and ignored the angered bark of _"Hey!"_ from Phorlum.

"It's made of oak wood." He said finally once he got a good enough patch of paint scrapped off.

Even with the black paint scrapped off, Credulous could still feel the sickly magic from the wand. He frowned to himself, setting it back into the box as gently as he could and looked back to the Director and his Professor. "It's sick."

"Sick?" Filemonsen blinked.

"He's saying the magic is tainted." Lunar said, eyeing Credulous with an unrecognizable glint.

"No, I'm saying it's _sick."_ He frowned, "It can get better. It's not tainted."

"Hm." Director Phorlum stood up, packing the wand up once again and this time sliding it onto his side of the table. Credulous dared to throw his hand out, catching the box just before it got completely to the Director's side. 

"Let me take it," He insisted, ignoring the shocked look Professor Filemonsen gave him, "It needs proper care, healing magic," He continued despite the Director's look of dislike, "I can do that. I can fix it and give it back to the child it belongs to."

"We found it with a wizard casting the forbidden curses." Lunar said flatly, "The wizard says he works for someone. A new wizard who will bring change to the community."

"A dark lord?" Credulous asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"We haven't enough information." Phorlum furrowed his eyebrows, "And you described this wand as belonging to a child. That wizard was no child."

Credulous paused, sitting back in his seat and blinked slowly. The child this wand belonged to was... missing.

"We have no children reported missing." Phorlum said, shaking his head and standing up with the wand pulled out from Credulous's grasp.

"That's not his wand." Credulous stressed, standing up and almost making his way around the table until he caught Filemonsen's head shaking warningly.

"We have no other reason to believe such, except for your words." The Director said, looking away for the first time since they've stepped into the room.

"If you would just-" Credulous clenched his fist when Phorlum turned and exited the room. He looked at his Professor exasperatedly, his chest feeling like it was going to collapse on itself. The wand wouldn't be cared for here. The wand was going to suffer, all because they couldn't read it as readily as he could.

"You need to stop him." He insisted.

Professor Filemonsen shook her head, staring to where Phorlum had left. "I'm sorry, I thought... We thought you could tell us who the wand belonged to."

"A child!" He snapped.

"That's not who we found it with." She turned to him, her face kind. Credulous suddenly wondered if she was trying to deceive him into calming down.

"As if stealing wands is new." He glared at the table separating himself and his Professor, reaching for his wand to stroke at the wicker handle and comfort himself. He couldn't believe he allowed this to happen. He slowly trailed his eyes up from the table, shifting on his feet for a few seconds before kicking up into action and running after the Director.

 _"Credulous!"_ Filemonsen's voice called after him.


	6. Under the Weather Wood [Pt. 2]

By the time Credulous made it out of the room and half way down the hall to the direction of where he was sure he watched Director Phorlum leave, he could hear Professor Filemonsen and Auror Rose yelling after him. He used the instinctive fear of being caught to help boost his drive to catch up to wherever the Director was.

"Director!" He shouted right as he appeared back into the heart of MACUSA, causing a few more people than he would have liked to turn and face him. Credulous took less than a few seconds to catch where the Director was, watching Phorlum as he was in mid-transfer of the sickly wand to another individual. 

 _Another Auror,_ He assumed. A shudder of terror ran down his spine at the sudden realization that the wand may be on it's way to being destroyed. Credulous's body was moving in sync with the realization; he took out his wand and pointed it to the box. 

_"Accio box!"_

Credulous caught the box after watching it slip out of Director Phorlum's grasp, holding it protectively to his chest and lowered his wand when the rest of the Auror's, now made painfully aware of Credulous's presence, raised theirs to challenge him.

Professor Filemonsen's voice shot through the burdening silence, "Credulous, stop!" 

"I'd return that before we have to do something we don't want to, Mr. McGinn." Director Phorlum said, facing Credulous again and maintaining the same haunting eye contact. Credulous didn't hesitate to look him in the eye this time and glare back in what he hoped to be a just as haunting fashion.

"You're going to destroy it." He accused without question, "You can't."

Credulous could feel the threatening of wordless magic trying to pull the box out of his grasp. He hugged it tighter, apologizing mentally to the wand inside at it's possible discomfort. He couldn't allow it out of his grasp. 

"It belongs to a wizard in custody; a wizard who is not going to leave anytime soon. The wand has no purpose anymore." Lunar said, approaching Credulous with a fluidity in his step.

"That's not true." He said sharply, taking a step back when he felt like the man was getting too close for comfort. The Director took the hint and paused, holding his place and putting his hands behind his back. Credulous could tell with the new wash of magic in the air that he had taken out his wand. He hasn't felt magic as powerful as that before.

"What isn't? The wand's owner or the purpose of it?" Phorlum tilted his head.

"Both." Credulous narrowed his eyes, "The wizard- whoever he is- is the one who should be punished. Not the wand."

"It's a stick!" Someone from his side said incredulously.

"It's not just a stick!" Credulous started, whipping on the woman who spoke and felt a kindle in his magic, "You wouldn't be able to produce a Patronus without it! You couldn't even do something as simple as a wordless _Leviosa_ if you hadn't had your wand to help you in the beginning."

When Credulous's guard went down, he felt the box being whisked out of his grasp. There was a flurry of emotions in him, things he couldn't name. However, he could register how scared he was when he realized that the box was back in the Director's hold and that he was back where he began the moment he stepped into the room. His eyes traveled the Director's face, hoping for some sign of anything other than the neutral face he wore.

"Lunar, I apologize for my student's behavior." Professor Filemonsen was talking behind him, and her voice sounded just the way he felt, "Please let me take him back to Ilvermorny. There will be no more issue from us."

"You may leave." The Director said after the pregnant pause. Credulous put his wand away, looking back guiltily to his Professor and shied from her look of angered disappointment. It reminded him of the look a mother would give to her children before she scolded them. 

 _I'm too old to be scolded!_ He thought indignantly.

"After I speak to Credulous alone, in my office." 

He snapped his eyes back to the Director. Then, Credulous glanced around the room, looking for some sign of if he should be nervous or happy about him wanting to be spoken alone. By the few looks he saw being exchanged in the other Auror's, he decided that it was a bad thing. He suppose it must be; he just got done making a huge scene.

 _For the greater good of a wands being,_ He thought to himself as he looked back to the Director and held his eyes.

Credulous strolled forward, a new confidence in his step as he followed the Director to his office, which was up the stairs and down the longest hallway he had ever walked. The time they walked was spent in silence, aside for the small mumbles Professor Filemonsen would give as she trailed just a few steps behind them.

Credulous assumed she was practicing what to say to him once they got back to Ilvermorny.

"Please wait outside, Auror Filemonsen." Phorlum asked, opening the door to his office. Credulous walked in without being motioned to; he decided it would be best to get comfortable before he probably got the Cruciatus curse. He took a seat that was in front of the desk in the room, glancing around at the walls. There were pictures of young children, a charmed clock, and a case of books. 

"Of course." She didn't sound at all pleased to be excluded from the talk. 

"Thank you." The door closed. "You've caused me a bit of trouble today, young man."

Credulous didn't respond. He instead sat straight in his chair and watched at the Director moved around the desk and sat into it, staring at him hollowly and setting the box in the middle of the desk. He felt the urge to throw his hand out and grab it, but he decided against it. He was sure the box being there was a sort of intimidation tactic, something to remind him that the Director had the wand and he didn't.

"All that for a wand." Phorlum added along.

"Yes sir." Credulous confirmed when Phorlum didn't add on to his statement.

"Why?"

"Because I care." Credulous sucked in a sharp breath out of frustration, "Unlike whoever you were talking to earlier that-"

"I lied about that," The Director's lips quirked up, "I wanted to see if I could make you admit to something."

"Something?" He echoed.

"Auror Filemonsen talks fondly of your care for wands. She's spoken plenty of it, enough to catch our interests here at MACUSA. However, I need to be thorough in our investigations and make sure you were not falsifying your care." The Director leaned back into his chair, crossing his legs and setting his hands neatly on a knee, "This also meant keeping you unaware of why we brought you here until you came. Besides, we have suspicion that there are... others like the wizard we caught with this wand-" He looked down at the box darkly, "-and we didn't want anybody overhearing."

 _Other evil wizards,_ Credulous thought, _using wands that aren't their own?_

"... I'm sorry to hear about that." He said slowly, watching the Director's eyes lift back up to him, "But I'm no spy. And I do care for these wands. Which is why I have to insist that you do not destroy it."

"Sadly," The Director raised his wand and pointed it at the box. Credulous's hand rose instinctively to try and pull the box out of harms way, but instead, it opened slowly and the wand inside it lifted with magic, "I must destroy it."

"No, you _can't!-"_ Credulous's voice shook as he spoke. He was surprised that his emotions were coming out so blatantly, and he was about to continue and beg the Director to put the wand back before he saw him raise his free hand in warning and stand up, moving to his book shelf and retrieving a small brown block. 

"I'm sorry, Credulous." The Director brought the brown block back, sat down on the desk, and tapped his wand against it. Credulous watched in a daze as the block molded and transformed into the exact shape and colour as the wand. Phorlum lowered the fake-wand into the box, covering it back up and then turn to face him. "We simply cannot allow this piece of evidence to leave MACUSA. I'm sure you'll understand."

"I do..." He said slowly, although he didn't understand at all.

"Good. Now, I would like you to go back to Ilvermorny-" Director Phorlum took the real wand from its spot in the air and held it out for Credulous to take, "- and not speak of _this_ to any of your friends."

"... Yes sir." He said, realization dawning on him. He took the wand, tucking it safely next to his own and stood up from his seat. He mouthed the words _thank you_ to the Director, stepping away from the desk and watched the man nod and place his hands on the desk comfortably.

"Do come again, Credulous." Lunar nodded his head.

 _No thanks,_ Credulous thought, turning away from the man and walking out of the office, back to Filemonsen. 

As he and FIlemonsen walked back to the door that would lead them to Ilvermorny, he couldn't help but contemplate to himself why he was suddenly so trusted. He didn't understand why Lunar would allow him to take the wand. Did Lunar believe him? Was Lunar moved by his words about why wands were so important and therefor not meant to be broken?

 _Or is it something darker,_ He thought. Was Lunar suspicious of his own co-workers? Was he too nervous to openly give Credulous the wand?

 _It doesn't matter now, not really. Not when I have a wand to heal and an owner to find,_  He thought to himself, looking to Filemonsen guiltily. She hasn't spoken to him yet. Hopefully, he can make it up to her at some point. He doesn't like being given the silent treatment by her.


	7. Under the Weather Wood [Pt. 3]

Credulous woke with a start. He heard the sounds of hard banging, something he would normally write off as an owl trying to break into his hut, but with the new addition of a sick wand he wasn't suppose to be having, he was far less inclined to relax into his bed. He threw the covers off and walked to the door, opening it to peak outside and see who's owl was bothering him so early in the day.

"Mickey?" Credulous blinked, opening the door entirely.

"Oh, you're the type to sleep in just pants." Mickey gave Credulous a look over, not looking at all pleased with the fact.

"Why are you up earlier than the sun?" He asked, deciding to ignore the comment and glanced around outside. If his eyes weren't already adjusted, he was certain that he wouldn't be able to see more than a few feet in front of himself.

"I can't sleep."

"Yeah, well, _I_ can." 

Mickey sighed loudly, looking towards Ilvermorny castle before looking back to Credulous and slumping his shoulders. Credulous wondered if he was contemplating telling him something. Then he came to a realization: _What if Mickey had a nightmare and didn't want to tell him?_

"But... I was going to get up soon, anyway." Credulous lied, "Let me get dressed and we can walk around."

Mickey brightened considerably, his predatory smirk coming back up. Credulous wondered if Mickey realized how daunting the grin was. He offered a tired smile of his own and shut his door. After putting on his robes and tucking his wand safely into pocket, he found himself staring at the sickly wand resting in the corner of his room, floating calmly with the help of his own charms. It's been a few days since he had left MACUSA, and after a considerable amount of scolding from Professor Filemonsen and detention duty for the few nights after, he was still struggling to understand why he was trusted with it.

Why had Director Phorlum given it to him? Why only in private? The way he spoke, it was as if he expected somebody was listening in on him.

Credulous looked away before he could get swept up in the thoughts. His only focus as of now was Mickey, and he shouldn't keep him waiting.

"Finally," Mickey muttered once Credulous opened his door, "I was getting bored of staring at the burnt wood."

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you're practicing Inferno spells." He said quickly, mostly trying to hide the fact that the marks were due to him exploding his own loose magic.

He and Mickey walked past Ilvermorny castle, going to the Quidditch field to sit on the bleachers. Credulous would have asked to go to the castle if Mickey didn't insist they go to the field first. They spoke about homework ("I remember having that," Credulous would say, followed by Mickey's huff of exasperation) and the prime ( _"Prom."_ Mickey corrected) that was soon to come up, Mickey expressing a large amount of disgust over it. 

"We don't need silly things like that here." He said.

"That's what _I_ thought," Credulous agreed, "Could you imagine the amount of students getting behind on their studies? We're not apart of the Triwizard Tournament. We don't need some silly Ball."

"Not to mention it's a no-maj thing," Mickey's voice dropped low, "We're wizards. We have no use for things like that. I bet the no-maj children brought up the idea."

"I think that's what some students mentioned." Credulous nodded, adding quickly, "But the no-maj born aren't the only ones encouraging it."

"Yeah?" Mickey looked at him. Credulous found himself staring back into his eyes, noticing the familiar glint in them. "Well, the young are outrageously impressionable."

"You're just as young as they are!" He scoffed, taking out his wand and using it to cast a warming charm on his clothes, "Sometimes you sound like the Headmaster." He added, just to tease.

"Don't get me started on that guy." Mickey said, looking to the field, "I hear it enough from my parents."

Credulous looked back to Mickey, lifting a brow, "Why?"

"Well, he's my uncle."

"Oh." He shifted, "I didn't know that."

"A lot of students don't- though, I don't really give them anything to assume such."

"Why is that?" Credulous asked, "I don't hear you talk about any of your family."

 _"You_ don't talk about _yours."_ Mickey said, looking at Credulous pointedly.

"Touché." He gave in, looking out to the field and watched the sun line on the grass rise.

Credulous didn't expect the accusation to come back full front on him. He doesn't speak about his family mostly because there was little family to speak about. His mother and father were reserved, maintaining themselves with their jobs and rarely ever speaking to him. He distantly recalled the look on his parents face when he moved out before his fifth year at Ilvermorny, how his mother nodded stiffly and his father warned about being able to pay rent.

He liked it a lot more on Ilvermorny grounds then he did in that flat, anyway.

"My dad works for MACUSA." Mickey's voice startled him out of his thoughts, "My mom stays at home. MACUSA pays enough for us all, so she enjoys her time making enchanted blankets and towels to sell for extra cash. My brother and his squip wife work with no-maj-born children to teach them about our society." 

"I thought you said your brother was a squip too?" Credulous looked back at Mickey, who's gaze was on him intently.

"Yeah and no. I have three brothers." He shrugged, "I'm the youngest."

"Ah," He frowned, "sounds tough."

"Not exactly," Mickey said, and Credulous wondered if the vagueness in the conversation would ever leave.

"... Because?"

"The brother before me went missing." Mickey's gaze remained unwavering, as if challenging Credulous into something, but he wasn't sure _what._ "He was the squip. And because he went missing, my parents dot on me more then the others."

"I'm... sorry to hear that," Credulous said.

"Don't be," Mickey shook his head, "it's not a fresh wound, or anything."

"Er... I'm the only child of my family." Credulous said, feeling as though he needed to tell Mickey as much. "It's nothing as... unique as that, though."

Mickey's face broke into a grin and he directed his attention back to the field. Credulous felt that familiar tug in him, the one which encouraged him to tell the truth. He fought against it for a while, wondering what exactly he could even tell the truth  _about_ , but he found his mouth moving after he registered his own voice.

"My parents don't exactly care about what I do, just so long as I'm not causing them trouble. I moved out the summer before my fifth year here and... well, you can see now that I live on Ilvermorny grounds. Parent's don't mind at all."

"That sounds pretty unique," Mickey said quietly, looking pleased that Credulous had offered something so personal. Credulous couldn't say that he was at all pleased about it, but the way Mickey glanced at him with a smile to match the warming charms he put on his clothes... he decided he didn't mind.

 _Making friends includes a piece of trust,_ He told himself as he looked out on the field, _and Mickey trusts me. I trust him, don't I?_

Credulous wondered if he should tell Mickey about the wand he got from the Director of MACUSA. Would Mickey tell his parents, and therefor get the Director into trouble? He almost wouldn't mind, if it wasn't for the fact that they would come and take the wand from him just to destroy it. 

"You look like you're thinking about something."

"I'm contemplating telling you about-" Credulous cut himself off, wincing in pain because he had to literally bite down on his tongue just to stop it from moving. He wasn't sure if that was normal or not.

"About what?" When Credulous looked at Mickey, he saw his face brightened with curiosity and worry. He couldn't decipher if the worry was a good thing or a bad one. "You can tell me about anything. As long as you didn't kill someone. _You didn't, did you?"_

"No, of course not," Credulous shook his head and wrinkled his nose in distaste, "I would go as far as to say I've _saved_ someone."

"Who?" 

And once again, it was as though Mickey's innocent questions were enough to let his mouth run free. However, this time Credulous didn't stop himself. He decided quickly that he did trust Mickey and that there was a possibility that Mickey could help him. He spilled everything out, telling about how Professor Filemonsen got him, being interrogated, how he saved the sick wand from being destroyed ("Sick?" Mickey frowned, "I can't explain it." Credulous replied), and how the Director acted like he was hiding something from the rest of the staff. 

"Why would he act like that?" Mickey asked when he finished, looking astounded that the adventure Credulous explained happened in a day. 

"I think... I think he believes there's someone working for that wizard group they mentioned." Credulous frowned, "The one they think that wizard was in when they caught him. A follower for a possible... _dark lord."_ He mumbled the words, not liking how they left a bitter taste on his tongue. It was scary, thinking about another dark wizard in these times.

"Another dark lord?" Mickey scoffed.

"I don't know," He breathed in, "they said it was too early to decide but... who knows? Maybe. All I know is that I have this sick wand that I need to fix and a young owner to find."

"Have you always been able to tell if a wand's sick?" Mickey asked, leaning in as if it was a topic needed to keep hush.

"I've never come across one before." Credulous shook his head, "It's strange how they couldn't tell. I couldn't even touch it, at first."

"How do you plan to fix it?"

"I'm going to let it rest, then I'm going to work." He looked back to Mickey, not missing the flash in his green eyes, "Wands need sufficient rest after being manhandled like that."

"You seem to know a lot about wands..." Mickey looked curious, which was new for Credulous. He's never met someone who found his knowledge  _interesting_ , besides for what Director Phorlum claimed the other day.

"Not much to figure out if you just listen to them." He said matter-of-factly, staring off at Ilvermorny castle as the sun finally reached dawn. They should head to Breakfast, or else he won't be able to figure out his schedule with the teachers.

"Can you promise not to tell anybody? Not even your family?" He asked absently, a curl in his gut forming.

Mickey was silent for a while, but Credulous caught the hint of a nod, "Yeah. I won't tell anybody."

* * *

 

After a full day of helping with charms (it was Disarming Charm practice today, and his anxiety has never been up so high for such a long time), Credulous had a long night of practicing his freezing magic spell. He was moving off of explosions and working on what emotions were most reactant.

As he set loose his magic into the air, Credulous realized that he no longer needed something floating on it to know where it was. He could see the faint shimmer it gave from the light of his lantern, very much like what a river would do if a moon's light were on it. Credulous decided this was a good thing. It meant he was making progress for himself, being able to see magic in it's truest form without the bother of something tangible sitting on top of it.

He shifted tentatively on his feet, considering the types of emotions he should be practicing first. The most explosive spell,  _Scolumdra Tutalem,_ was a freezing spell created from grief. If grief exploded loose magic, he wondered what would happen if he used the opposite emotion. 

"So I need to use joy," He mumbled, tapping his wand against his leg and focused on his and it's bond. Surely he could surge the emotion joy through it without needing a particularly happy spell?

"It's worth a shot..."

Credulous flicked his wand, thinking of the same happy memory he used for his Patronus. The first time he connected to his wand, how the feeling made him want nothing more than to explore magic and manifest it. He saw the loose magic give an exhausted tremor, but nothing else happened.

"Perhaps I will need a real spell..." 

Credulous sent out his Patronus, watching as his Osprey flew out and flapped it's wings around his hut before diving into the loose magic. He watched with a start as his Patronus started to pull apart, as if it was made of fog. He frowned as the bright blues slowly faded into the same transparency his magic originally held.

So, happy thoughts _don't_ seem to work. But, he cant decide too early. He'll need to keep practicing well into the night, just as any other testing he's done before. He sure hopes other spells will do something just as curious as his Patronus did.


End file.
